Can you understand it?
When I was growing up I was moved around a lot. It seemed when something was not going the way my mother wanted she would take us kids, what we could carry and leave. I moved around so much, lost so much and this was all before I was 10 years old. Abused and broken starting from age six. We left the house I grew up in, my friends, clothes and everything I knew.
I was in a Violent Shelter for abused woman and kids, yeah I knew my "dad" had a bad temper but I never knew what abuse was. Not until I was there. I saw woman with broken bones, bruises all over their face, I was scared. Is this what men did to woman they loved? Did they normally just hit their kids, their offspring? It was put into my head that it was okay to run when things got bad. I never really noticed I was doing what my mom did when I was growing up until not that long ago. Yet, I still do it. It is like, I do it without thinking about it. I just runaway. What I want to do now, is run. Just run far away without looking back, just to forget those bad feelings I can't explain.
Flashback to age 9:
This is when that weird feeling started. It is when I noticed weird behavior, I would sit quietly to observe. Weird smelling smoke, things that were like cigs, yet weren't. Drinking. Lots of drinking, and underage drinking. My mom, my cousin she was dating, my brother, his gf, and his thing on the side would sit around drinking and getting high. It happened a lot. Within a year or so living there this happened a lot. Personality changes, bad smells, and so much perversion. My mom watched porn with my brother Mark and his gf. She also swapped partners with one of friends. She slept with her husband, and the friend slept with my cousin. Us kids could hear what was going on and sometimes would wake up to naked people running around. I was only a child. My mom encouraged me to drink and the first time I thought about getting high was age 9, my mom offered it to me. You see, I didn't think anything of it. She was my mom, she loved me, it was okay to do this. Yet, I said no. Something in me said, this is not right. This is not love. Parents do not choose a lover over their own child, their flesh and blood they are supposed to be raising. parents do not just give their kid alcohol and tell them to smoke when they are that young.
But that is just the beginning sadly. A beginning to a story that has yet to even end.
I was in a Violent Shelter for abused woman and kids, yeah I knew my "dad" had a bad temper but I never knew what abuse was. Not until I was there. I saw woman with broken bones, bruises all over their face, I was scared. Is this what men did to woman they loved? Did they normally just hit their kids, their offspring? It was put into my head that it was okay to run when things got bad. I never really noticed I was doing what my mom did when I was growing up until not that long ago. Yet, I still do it. It is like, I do it without thinking about it. I just runaway. What I want to do now, is run. Just run far away without looking back, just to forget those bad feelings I can't explain.
Flashback to age 9:
This is when that weird feeling started. It is when I noticed weird behavior, I would sit quietly to observe. Weird smelling smoke, things that were like cigs, yet weren't. Drinking. Lots of drinking, and underage drinking. My mom, my cousin she was dating, my brother, his gf, and his thing on the side would sit around drinking and getting high. It happened a lot. Within a year or so living there this happened a lot. Personality changes, bad smells, and so much perversion. My mom watched porn with my brother Mark and his gf. She also swapped partners with one of friends. She slept with her husband, and the friend slept with my cousin. Us kids could hear what was going on and sometimes would wake up to naked people running around. I was only a child. My mom encouraged me to drink and the first time I thought about getting high was age 9, my mom offered it to me. You see, I didn't think anything of it. She was my mom, she loved me, it was okay to do this. Yet, I said no. Something in me said, this is not right. This is not love. Parents do not choose a lover over their own child, their flesh and blood they are supposed to be raising. parents do not just give their kid alcohol and tell them to smoke when they are that young.
But that is just the beginning sadly. A beginning to a story that has yet to even end.